Muggle Expert
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: When her son is young, Cedrella is certain he'll become the greatest Muggle expert alive. When he's older, she gets to witness his biggest breakthrough


_Written For_

 **Piñata Challenge on the Hogwarts forum** (Slytherin, Family piñata)

 **Word Count:** 880

* * *

Cedrella isn't surprised to find her son seated on the floor, a strange box made of plastic and glass at his feet. She raises her brows, a small smile on her lips as she watches the ten year old tinker away, pulling strange bits of metal from within the bulky thing.

"And what's this?" she asks from the doorway.

Arthur looks up, his pale cheeks flushing a dusty pink. Cedrella tries not to laugh. Even when he isn't doing anything wrong, her son still manages to look guilty somehow. "It's a Muggle thing," he says, tapping at the glass screen. "They call it a vellytision!"

"Vellytision?" Cedrella echoes. It doesn't sound like a real word, but her son knows more about Muggles than she does. "And what does it do?"

Arthur shrugs. "The nice lady up the road was throwing it in the bin. Said it doesn't work anymore. She said you can see moving pictures on it."

"You didn't take without asking, did you?" Cedrella asks.

She knows her son isn't a thief, but still. Despite his good intentions, Arthur's excitement can get the best of him sometimes. She can see him so vividly in her mind, waiting for the Muggle lady to return to her home before sneaking over and grabbing it.

Arthur shakes his head, lips poking out in an offended pout. "She said I could have it," he insists with a small sniffle. "I didn't steal it!"

Cedrella softens and steps closer, kneeling beside Arthur. He's opened the back of the vellytision, and she peers inside. "I don't see any pictures," she says, curious as to how Muggles could have figured out how to make their photographs move. "Do we have to put ours inside?"

The boy shrugs, brows knitting together as he digs inside. Cedrella fights a laugh. Her son has always been so fascinated by their Muggle neighbors. At six years old, he decided he would figure out the secrets of all the strange things they owned. So far, he hasn't had much luck.

After several more minutes of tinkering, her son throws his tools aside with a frustrated groan. "I'll never figure it out," he huffs, his bottom lip quivering pitifully. "It's not fair!"

Cedrella pulls Arthur into her arms, stroking his hair and pressing a small kiss to his forehead. She doesn't know why he finds Muggles so fascinating, but she's always encouraged him to learn. The way his eyes brighten whenever he has a new Muggle contraption to play with has always been to adorable to discourage. But this is always the worst part. Without any guidance, he could take everything apart and never fully understand. His crestfallen face, the disappointment in his eyes… Cedrella hates to see her son look so upset.

"I'm sure you'll understand it one day," she tells him, rocking him gently. "There's even a class for it Hogwarts."

Arthur sniffles, burying his face in her shoulder. "I just want to know," he says.

"I know, my love. And one day, you will. Just wait. You'll be the most knowledgeable wizard in all of Great Britain when it comes to Muggles."

Arthur pulls away. Though tears still swim in his eyes, she sees the smallest spark there. Hope. "I will!" he says. "Just wait!"

…

Cedrella feels weak as she sits up in bed. "Arthur," she says with a smile.

Her son is no longer a little boy, but, even as an adult, she still sees the sparkle in his eyes, and she knows only one thing can cause it. In one hand, Arthur holds up a plate of toast proudly. In the other rests a small metal square with slender slots at the top. Another Muggle device.

"I made toast," Arthur says, handing her the plate.

Cedrella nods and takes a bite, chewing carefully. Her jaw tends to ache in her old age, and she has to take great care with foods that aren't soft. "Thank you," she says before gesturing at the metal object. "What is that?"

His lips quirk into the broadest grin she's ever seen, and Cedrella can't help but smile. His happiness is contagious. "A toaster," he says proudly. "Bread goes in, and toast comes out."

Cedrella chuckles. It sounds so silly. Muggles can't have some metal box that uses heating magic to toast their food. They're just Muggles, after all.

Arthur sits beside her on the bed, tilting the toaster so Cedrella can see inside. "You see the little wires?" he asks, poking a finger inside the slot to draw her attention. "They heat up, and the bread warms."

"How?"

Arthur grips a strange tail that protrudes from the metal, holding up the end so she can see the prongs. "Electricity!" he says brightly.

Her smile broadens. For years, her son tried to understand Muggles, only to have his hopes and dreams crushed. Now, he's finally done it, and Cedrella feels as though her heart might burst with pride. "Look at you," she says, reaching out and caressing his cheek fondly. "My brilliant Muggle expert."

"There's still much to learn," Arthur tells her excitedly as she takes another bite of her toast. "Fellytones, rubber ducks, blenders! Muggles have so many things."

"You'll figure them all out," she chuckles. "Every single one."


End file.
